


A Sending Of Nights

by Marien



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-19
Updated: 2006-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marien/pseuds/Marien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by marien</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sending Of Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kajivar

 

 

 _To one thing I have made up my mind. If we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many. Just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks._ \--Jonathan Harker.  
("Dracula", Bram Stoker.)

A Sending of Nights

"None safer in all the world than I from them," and she doesn't recognize her own voice, the laughter in it that's barely avoiding tears. She won't look Van Helsing in the face. Mina already knows what he'd see  
in hers. Another night, she might even have cared not to hurt him. It was too late for that.

A loss for every gain.  
She shuts her eyes, one last time, remembering. Memories that will have to hold her for the rest of  
eternity, however long the way.  
Jonathan's face, his arms about her. The sound of his voice, whispering "darling". Sunlight, its bright  
colors and warmth pouring over her skin. His lips teasing her with half-done kisses that had driven her  
out of her mind when he dared stop too soon.

Did _he_ remember? Long for the world that had moved on, without him? Perhaps she'd ask,  
soon, if the chance was given them.  
She's felt the difference in her, the taint. It was no longer dependent simply on Dracula's presence  
or his powers. Would killing the Count even undo what had happened? She's no longer sure.  
What Mina IS sure of, is that there's no way Jonathan or the others would believe that the cause was  
already lost. They'd continue to pursue him, and more lives would be lost, for nothing. Even Dr. Van Helsing couldn't promise her that she'd be free of the darkness with the Beast destroyed, he only had  
theories.  
No.  
Masterful though he was, this was not his battle to win. A darker part of her rebels at the way they,  
like the vampire himself, presumed to choose for her. She was not a toy, not a slave, not a flag to be  
waved in some holy crusade.  
She believes that the cause, itself, was a just one, but the means? Slaughter and be killed in turn?  
with no end of it in sight?  
No.  
He'd left her alive. Why? Why not simply kill her? And why the Count's words, that Van Helsing had repeated to her and Lord Godalming, of _love?_ Bitter jealousy or envy, possibly, but one has to consider something of value to feel jealousy over another's possession of it.

Time to find out.

She takes a single step forward. It's the hardest. The next is a little easier. Mina feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off her. She'd known fear and grief were hideous, soul-tearing burdens. It hadn't occurred to her  
that a divided mind or soul could be equally harsh.  
There's a feeling of lightness, freedom, sweet relief when she walks out of the protected circle Van Helsing had created to guard them both against the Count's other "helpers." Pain shrills through her, but she grits her teeth and sweeps a hand along the ground, breaking the line of holy Wafer that the old man had lain  
down. The Host leaves a vicious burn along her palm to match the one on her forehead. She keeps moving.

Other. Yes, that's who she is, too.  
Mina ignores Van Helsing's frantic, horrified cry, his rush after her, while she walks forward to greet them.  
The snow drifts down, dusting her hair ivory-white and silvery in color.  
She'd been cold from the marrow out since the day she heard that her best friend had been put in the ground.  
The weather's no more than a moment's distraction for her.  
_Is this how it was for you, Lucy? You hoped. You fought. But you lost, too. Do you wish, wherever you_  
are, that you hadn't fought? That you could at least still walk the living world, see the people you love and try your best to keep them safe, even knowing that you couldn't? she wonders.  
Her feet are bare. She has to stop to rip away a piece of her dress to press against her ankle. Bits of ice cut through the skin, staining the fabric and her fingers dusky, hot red.

"Madam Mina, no!"

The other vampires, Dracula's concubines, lunge toward them. A raised cross in Van Helsing's hand bars them from reaching him. Mina spares a second to be grateful, for that, even as she moves away, out of  
her friend's line of sight, and out of earshot.

She swallows once, twice, hard;calls to the 'Enemy' within her mind. _"Blood of my blood. Kin of my kin."_ The words were a twisted echo of the promises she'd made to Jonathan, weeks ago. Yet, like her first vows, they held a kernel of truth.

Then, without sign or warning, he's there.  
"Count." Mina's gaze rests on his face. She flicks the tip of her tongue over her teeth, feeling the sharpened  
points.  
He laughs. "Not so very strong and unconquerable, are you? You that thought you could best me, like the men. You tried to hide, tried to escape my touch upon you--"

"I'm not hiding now." She doesn't let herself rise to the bait of his insults. "It will be as God wills it. Death is not the end. Do I need remind you of that, of all people who should know?"

His hands lock on her shoulders, bruising, threaten to crush bone beneath his fingers. Punishment for her  
insolence. She waits for a grip that will snap her neck, or hold her caught so that he can set his fangs in her  
throat, fatally this time.

It doesn't come. She moans, pain, fear, but a glimmer of excitement--and hope? beneath those emotions.

His arm circles her back, a hand fists in her hair, jerking her head to one side. Red eyes blaze at her  
from deepening shadows as he lowers his mouth to her throat.  
Fear melts away. She's dimly aware of his lips against the pulse in her neck. Finally, he lifts his head.  
A bitter laugh is his only comment before he shifts his hold on her, to bring her mouth to a jagged  
laceration in his flesh, above his silent heart.  
Mina doesn't try to push him away this time. It's no use...and to repeat past failures isn't her purpose  
in challenging him. She whispers a last prayer, the words slicing along her pale skin like hot coals,  
and then drinks.

_World...without...end..._

His arms loosen, not letting go, but steadying her. The hatred leaves his face, replaced by intent regard,  
surprise.  
Dracula half-turns away, calls to his minions. They hear him, obey, leaving the hunt for another night.

Mist wraps 'round them, and when it dissipates, the clearing is empty.

 

 

 


End file.
